


No Reason not to

by schneestern



Category: Bandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-17
Updated: 2010-06-17
Packaged: 2018-03-05 08:25:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3112913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schneestern/pseuds/schneestern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bert finally seeks Gerard out after the falling out between their two bands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Reason not to

“Just call,” Jeph says and drops a phone into Bert's lap as he passes him on his way to the back lounge. It's Jeph's phone, because Bert broke his last night when he stepped on it, mistaking it for a cockroach.

Bert stares at the phone in his lap now, picks it up and arranges it in front of him on the sticky table. The display is scratched up and the black casing is chipped in places.

Bert knows there's no way he'll call.

*

“What exactly happened anyway?” Dan slurrs his vowels when he's fucked up but Bert develops super hearing or something when he's drunk, so it balances out nicely.

“Huh?” Bert pretends he doesn't know what Dan's talking about, but of course he does.

“I mean what happened between you two, when you like, broke up?” Dan waves his hand around in the air to encompass everything that goes with that question and almost backhands Bert in the process.

“Their periods finally synced up,” Quinn says. Which is not really an answer

Bert shoots him a dirty look, but Quinn's too busy making a penis out of pretzels.

Before anyone can say anything else, Jeph reaches for the bottle of tequila, missing it by an inch and tipping it over in the process.

The tequila spills over the table and they watch it dribble on the carpeted floor.

“Not it,” Dan yells immediately, raising his hands in the air.

“Not it,” Bert and Quinn say at the same time.

Jeph looks at them like they personally betrayed him. “But I cleaned the stupid floor last time you assholes puked Kaluha all over it.”

“You know the rules,” Dan says and shrugs, but he does hold a shotglas under the edge of the table and mops up some of the fluid with his hand.

He holds it out to Jeph like a peace offering. After a long moment of consideration, Jeph takes it and throws back the shot.

Later, when Bert's retching up what is still in his belly, he realizes he doesn't even remember why things fell apart. Sure, they were fighting and shit, but not more than usual. Maybe even less.

He stares into the toilet bowl and wonders if maybe he _should_ call after all.

*

Quinn sits down opposite Bert in the front lounge. It's long past midnight and Jeph and Dan are already sleeping.

“Hey, Quinnery,” Bert says quietly and pauses his Nintendo.

Quinn gives him a look, then slides a piece of paper across the table.

It's a ripped out corner from last night's set list.

Bert picks it up and unfolds it. There's an LA address scribbled on it.

Carefully, Bert folds it up again and looks at Quinn.

“You think?”

Quinn nods.

Bert looks down at the piece of paper again. “Shouldn't I, uh, call ahead?”

Quinn quirks an eyebrow and folds his arms.

“Oh,” Bert says, “And Frank told him?”

Quinn shifts in his seat.

“Well, then what was the point of calling Frank?”

Quinn rolls his eyes and Bert remembers the address in his hands.

“What if he tries to kill me?” Bert thinks that's a valid fear.

“I'll come save you, you fucking whinyass princess,” Quinn says, looking serious.

Bert smiles.

He picks up his Nintendo, goes around the table and slides in next to Quinn. When he unpauses his game to play, Quinn leans into his side a little to get a better look at the tiny screen.

They stay like that for a while until Quinn gets up to climb over Bert and go to bed.

Once he's closed his curtain, Bert pulls out the little piece of paper again and looks at the address.

On the screen Mario drops into a canyon and dies.

*

It's an impulse decision. To be fair, most of Bert's decisions are impulsive, but this is the mother of them all.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Bert mutters under his breath as he walks up the driveway. It's pristine and so fucking perfect it looks like it's straight out of a middle-class-for-motherfuckers catalog.

When he reaches the door, Bert hovers in front of it and desperately wishes he'd taken up Dan on his offer to borrow his flask. This would be the very perfect moment for some booze.

Probably also the very worst.

Bert tugs on his shirt and feels terribly out of place in front of this house, in this neighborhood.

He raises his hand to knock, then thinks better of it and sits down on the first step instead. He lights a cigarette.

The first drag feels like the best fucking thing ever and Bert keeps smoking, trying to pretend he's back at the bus. He pictures Jeph yammering on about how smoking on the bus will get them all killed, which would probably prompt Quinn to light three cigarettes at the same time and stuff them all in his mouth.

Bert doesn't hear the door open behind him, but he _does_ hear someone coughing behind him.

He pretends he didn't hear it.

After all this time he should've known better.

Gerard sits down next to him, plucking the cigarette from between Bert's fingers.

His hand is shaking a little when he brings it up to his lips to take a drag.

Bert tries to look at him without turning his head too much.

Gerard catches him anyway. “Do you want to come in?”

Without thinking Bert says, “That's what your mom said last night.”

He wants to kill himself an instant later.

Gerard just gives him a look and then something in his eyes softens. A tentative smile forms on his lips.

“Your mom, you asshole,” he says quietly. Which isn't really a reply at all, but Bert knows what he's trying to say anyway.

He grabs the cigarette from Gerard's hand and takes a deep drag from it. “Fuck you, too, Gee,” he says and blows the smoke right into Gerard's face.

Gerard giggles and gets up to walk inside.

Bert gets up to to follow him.

On the threshold he stops short when he sees the living room. The walls are covered in drawings, faded movie posters of zombies and blown-up photos from tour. There's a ratty couch in front of an enormous TV and the table is overflowing with sketches, drying tubes of paint and a full ash tray that has two burning cigarettes in it.

Gerard's disappearing into what looks like the kitchen and Bert finally steps into the house.

He looks at the cigarette in his hand and then drops it on the carpeted floor, crushing it with his boot.

He smiles and closes the door behind himself.


End file.
